Story of the Staff, Continued...

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NOTE TO EVERYONE - Let's keep this thread clean of everything except the actual story, 'k? All questions, comments, etc., should go into the "Administration" topic. R.


It was Callain who finally called a halt. Dammit, he'd buy a coach-an-four and tie Kibrani to the seat, if that's what it would take to make her save her strength, but for now... "Enough," he snapped. "She needs rest." Kibrani didn't argue, but Beroth shook his head within his hood.

"Not here. There's too much danger, all around. We shouldn't sleep in the forest."

"How much farther?" Illith'Hen asked with a frown.

"Perhaps another hour -" Beroth glanced at Kibrani and amended his estimate. "- or two."

"No," Kibrani mumbled. "I'm sorry, I can't, not that far." She rubbed the back of her head. "I know it's not safe yet but I just can't. I'm sorry."

She was almost asleep in the short time it took them to make camp, rousing only when Callain brought her something to eat. "They're all watching each other watching you," he said quietly. "Beroth, Second and Third, Illith'Hen... Something's up, and I just don't know what."

"Tell me all about it in the morning, in case I sleep through it," she replied, giving him a smile and a quick kiss.

But there was no way even Kibrani could sleep through what came next.

 

Rracaw screeched, a feral cry of hunting that sent Beroth and a better part of the group rolling to their feet with weapons half-drawn. It was at that moment the goblins crashed into the camp in a disorganized, hectic mob so typical of the race. Beroth smashed his broadsword into the face of a close goblin, as another gurgled and slumped to the ground with one of Callain's bolts in his throat. Iliith'Hen waded into the goblins with the Staff, smashing bones and crushing skulls.
Kibrani was a little slower to her feet, but she straightened with a dagger in each hand. Myrara scrambled to her feet next to Kibrani, lashing out with a well aimed kick that sent a goblin toppling into the sweep of Beroth's sword.
"Come to me, my enemies!" Roared Glamrod, brandishing his battle-ax. Sadi stood at his side, cold fury in his face, colder steel in his hands.
Kibrani glanced towards Second and Third; they were dispatching goblins with reckless abandon, an almost disgusting joy burning bright in their eyes. She shivered, and turned to meet a rushing goblin.

The Ninth, or Beroth, as he called himself, made Second and Third uneasy. He was the Outcast, the Forsaken. By all accounts, he should be dead. And now, alive, he mustn't be allowed to live. So when Third chanced upon him with his back turned in the heat of the fight, Third could not allow the opportunity to slide past. He raised his sword and cut at Beroth's head. But almost supernaturally, Beroth turned at the last second, to fend off the blow! The dark eyes beneath the hood gazed coldly at Third, and Beroth turned away.
"Get your backs against the tree!" Beroth roared, over the noise of the battle. There was no mistaking which tree he spoke of, there was only one in the clearing in which they stood. The group coalesced around the trunk, and the goblins surrounded them.

 

The goblins were at least 20 strong still and easily surrounded the small group.
"We go at my command!" Beroth bellowed as the goblins drew ever closer.
"And why sould we listen to you!?" third shot back.
"Third, please, i wnat to come out of this alive!" said Kabrini. "Can we discuss this later?"
"Fine," third mumbled, obviously upset.
The goblins were on them now, and their stink was horrid. "NOW!" Beroth cried. Everyone charged. Callian felled two with one bolt as Illith'Hen stumbled on a root. He looked up to see a goblin jeering at him. He attemped to strike, but the goblin easily blocked it. Suddenly the goblin's face drooped as if he had been turned off. Illith'Hen rolled out of the way jsut in time to see the goblin fall on where he just was. Beroth offered a bloody hand to Illith'Hen. It was he who had slayed the goblin. Befor wither had time to say a word, a scream erupted from the other side of the clearing.

 

The scream was uttered from Kibrani. In attempt to help she had drawn her dagger, but under her ungainly weight she had staggered and fallen. She had managed to twist and fall onto her back in an effort to save the baby from any harm. Callain was the first to reach her, dropping and sliding next to her, “Are you ok?” She nodded slightly and Callain helped her to her feet. Leaning down he picked up the dagger and slid it into her sheath.

The others were watching worriedly, casting nervous glances at one another. “It’s fine” Kibrani said, “I just tripped”.

“We need to move,” said Illith’hen “There may be more goblins about”

“No!” Callain almost shouted, “Kibrani can’t go any further. The most we can do is grab the bedrolls and move away from the camp and return in the morning. Anything else will be too much” The others sighed, but agreed, fetching bedrolls and packs.

Soon they had moved around a hundred metres into the woods, set a watch and were resting. It was Illith’hen who was on guard when Callain sat down next to him. “I need to ask you a favour.” Said Callain.

“Of course” said Illith’hen

“I need to borrow a spare set of your clothes.”

“Why?” asked Illith’hen.

“Look, back in Aeroth I had a run in with a woman asking for my services. I can’t risk it happening again.”

“I see” said Illith’hen, still a little confused “Then help yourself.” Callain thanked him and turned and opened Illith’hen’s pack. He pulled from it a grey blue robe that reached just above his knees, a thick silk belt, which he tucked under his own sword belt, Trousers of the same colour as the robe and a long grey cloak that trailed at his ankles. His hair hung loose past his shoulders. He returned to sit by Illith’hen.

Illith’hen smiled “You look like an elf. Or some young noble perhaps.”

“I feel like an idiot. But at least I look less like a cut throat.”

“Yes, you do. I daresay you look rather fair. Might I say…”

“Don’t push it elf.” With that he returned to his bed.

 

But Kibrani wasn’t alone when Callain returned to bed. Ragnar stood over her, yanking her head back with one hand twined in her hair. The other pressed a wicked-looking blade against her belly.

“You humans are just so predictable,” he chuckled. “Why would you leave a perfectly defensible location after fighting off a few pathetic goblins? Afraid they’d be back, were you? Well, I suppose I should be grateful, since you delivered my prize so thoughtfully.” He jerked Kibrani’s head, making her gasp.

“Let her go,” Callain said flatly, his hand twitching towards his sword.

“Oh, no. Drogul wants this one, he does, though I can’t imagine why.” Ragnar poked her with the tip of his blade, grinning evilly. “But he didn’t specify that he wanted her alive.”

Callain didn’t move as Illith’Hen’s voice came from behind him. “He’s bluffing. Kibrani’s safe as long as Drogul wants the child.”

“What makes you think a human child is important to Drogul’s plans?” Ragnar drawled. “Even if it were, do you really think that Fate wouldn’t find another Heir if this one were lost? Why don’t we find out, shall we?” He hauled Kibrani roughly to her feet and pressed the knife against her again. She grabbed his wrist futilely. “If you’d rather not know, my dear, I suggest you come along quietly.”

Wordlessly, Kibrani extended her left hand towards Callain as Ragnar dragged her past him. Their fingertips brushed, and it seemed that a trail of red hung in the air for a few seconds after contact was broken. Ragnar spoke a few words in a harsh tongue and there was a crack like thunder, then suddenly he and Kibrani were gone. The only sign that she had ever been there at all was the warm indentation in her bedroll.

Callain was deaf to the others’ babble as he rubbed the marriage ribbon on his wrist and stared at the last place he had seen his wife. A hole had just been torn inside of his chest, and he could feel the old professional ice filling it. He would find Kibrani, no matter what it took, and what happened to anyone or anything that tried to stand in his way wouldn’t be murder, it would be justice. His justice.

[ September 15, 2003, 20:33: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

Callain's anger rose in his throat until it threatened to choke him. His hands clenched and unclenched, making twisted, claw-like parodies of human hands.
"Iliith'Hen, are you able to do such as he has just done?" Callain growled, glaring at where Ragnar had been. Iliith'Hen hesitated, and Callain grew impatient. He whirled on Myrara.
"What of you? You have the Sight, but any other powers you have left untold?" She merely stared at him, stricken. Growing ever more agitated, Callain spun around, looking each of his companions in the eye. Lastly, his eyes fell on Beroth. The man stood silently, holding Callain's eyes with his own dark and shadowed ones.
( It's not much, I know. I'd write more, but I want to see what all you others will do with it from here! )

 

After a pause Beroth replied to Callian's silent plea "Yes." That one simple word turned Callian's world upside down. He would be able to save Kibrani after all!
"Well let's go then!" Callian exclaimed.
"First we must make preperations." Beroth calmly explained. "Gather your things and be prepared to go in an hour."
Callian opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced my the look in Beroth's eyes. He went to prepare.
"Don't go." said Illith'Hen. "We don't know if he is to be trusted."
"He saved your life today!" Callian replied. "Besides, Kibrani seemed to trust him, so that's good enough for me."
"Then let me come with you."
"No, you need to stay here and finish up with the staff. We will be back before you know it."
"I'm not worried about missing you, I'm worried about your saftey."
"Thanks for your concern, mom. I'm a big human, i can take care of myself."
Illith'Hen finally gave in.
"I still don't have a good feeling about this," he mutterend to himslef as Callian moved on to packing.

 

Myrara reeled as the spinning in her head accelerated. She grabbed Sadi’s arm to stop herself from falling. “You can’t go,” she said in a surprisingly loud voice. Her eyes were an unfocused silver blur. “Not without the Guardian. Only the power of the Staff can protect the Heir now.” Myrara crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as soon as the words had left her mouth.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ragnar sheathed his knife once inside the castle, but didn’t release his grip on Kibrani’s hair. He dragged her down several identical corridors before shoving her roughly into a chamber.

“Drogul would speak with you. They will prepare you for your audience.” He spun on his heel and marched away before she could speak.

At least a dozen women, all clad in long grey dresses, their faces were veiled below the eyes, were waiting. They said not a word as they stripped away her clothes and led her to a large pool of water. Tendrils of steam rose from its surface as she stepped in. The women bathed her, washed her hair, rubbed scented oil into her skin, and dressed her in a flowing robe of white satin that shimmered with all the colors of light.

Three goblins were waiting in the corridor when the handmaids led her forth. “Come this way,” the smallest growled, starting off with a slight limp. Even at the slower pace, all the corridors looked the same and Kibrani couldn’t get her bearings. They stopped before a large door of dark wood, bound with iron. One of the goblins pushed it open and stood aside for her to enter, alone.

In the dim light, all Kibrani could tell was that the room was packed with books and strange apparati made of glass and shiny metal. Everything was neatly organized. A man with grey hair was sitting before a fire crackling large hearth. He didn’t look up from his book as she neared, but gestured peremptorily for her to take the chair opposite him. She stomped her foot angrily on the tiled floor.

“No. I won’t be kept waiting for some bloody book, not after being kidnapped. If you can’t be bothered to talk to me, then I have to see about finding my way home.”

Drogul closed the book and looked up at her as he set it aside. “So we skip the formal pleasantries, eh, and get straight to business? Fine, my lady.” He tapped the cover of the book. “I have found a way for you to keep your child, if you are interested.” Kibrani didn’t move but her hands folded across her middle almost involuntarily. “Please, do sit down. I think we have much to discuss.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A scarred fist struck the goblin’s skull, like the door knocker on the gates of Hell. Snarskall slumped to his knees, trying feebly to protect his already bleeding head. The giant of a goblin loomed over him drawing back his fist for another blow.

“Not so tough now, runt!” growled the goblin as he struck.

The little goblin rolled backwards, only to be kicked back towards his attacker by the press of goblins that hemmed in. His former horde. Goblins that he had led to victory time and time again. He had not thought he had been an unfair a leader, they disagreed. The goblin that was currently beating him was called Grug. He was big, slow, and dumb; but his fists were like hammers.

Another hammer-like blow, this time to his exposed ribs, food was even worse under Ragnar. Grug continued his assault until Snarskall was lying in a puddle of grey-green goblin blood that was still oozing from his broken body.

“You say me stoopid. I say you stoopid now. You no tell us and me what to do now. You bad goblin. Dis-dis-dis-gra-ce to goblins” Grug yelled at him.

Snarskall could take the beating, small goblins were used to it and mended quickly, he could take the insults, but he would not let this ruffian goblin call him, descendant of the great goblins, a disgrace to the goblin race. He opened his mouth to speak, but all he could muster was a choking sound as he expelled the blood that drowned out his words.


“Stoopid goblin. You stay down and no sound. Or I make you bleed more”

The towering goblin drew back a foot, already rich with goblin blood upon it, to deliver a silencing kick to Snarskall’s teeth. He saw the foot coming closer and closer through blood crusted eyes. He knew it would hurt a lot. He knew that he didn’t care about the pain. He cared about honour.

Snarskall growled and rolled away from the kick. Wrapping his arms around Grug’s leg as it continued upwards he sank his teeth deeply into it. Blood sprayed into his mouth. Grug screamed. Launching himself at the goblin’s battle hardened chest he kicked and bit, and pushed Grug to the ground. Straddling his chest Snarskall drew back his tiny fists and let fly, screaming and growling as he did so. Grug tried to fight back but it was too late. The last words he heard were,

“It is you who is the disgrace to goblins”

The blood of Grug flowed over the stone floor, mixing with Snarskall’s and forming puddles that shimmered in the candlelight. When the small goblin finally stopped his attack, upon the, now, prone shape of the former goblin Grug, the goblins he had once commanded were silent. They were waiting for his order. He strode out of the hall, the other goblins following in awe behind him.

“Now let’s get that filthy bastard Ragnar!” yelled Snarskall, the leader of the goblin horde once more.

 

Kibrani raised her chin and chose a seat close to the door, sitting on the edge of it delicately. She hid her sigh of relief from Drogul as her legs were unburdened.
"I'm not sure really have anything to discuss," she said then, slowly. "Seeing as you've kidnapped me from my husband and companions, dragged me to gods-know-where without so much as a 'by your leave', and seem to have been watching me for a long time, I thought that it would be more of a you-talking, me-listening experience."

Drogul laughed, and Kibrani's nails bit into her chair's arms. She was nervous; her nerves were humming with adrenaline.
"Clever," he said, "And well spoken." Drogul's face then hardened. "But I do indeed have a matter to discuss with you. I said before that I might know a way for you to keep your child, and I meant that. I will explain, but it important that you listen well, for time draws short, and I cannot dally in the past for long.
"There was time in my life when I was human. I was stronger then most, and that was what ultimately saved me. It was my strength that allowed me to steal the life of a demon, so long ago, when I was all but dead. Fate had struck me down, She was most displeased, for I had once been Her Heir."

 

Kabrini gulped.
It's a lie, it's a lie, it's a lie she htought to herself. It couldn't be true, because if it was...

It's a lie, it's a lie, it's a lie Callian thought to himslef. He didnt need the staff's protection. He could rescue his own wife on his own. And besides if Illith'Hen came along, hwo would finish this mission they were on?
He looked up from his thoughts, startled, Beroth was at the door.


~please pardon the length of this peice, i am anxious to see where YOU will take the story~

 

“She’s right, and you know it.” Sadi looked up at Callain from where he was tending Myrara. “There’s more going on here than a simple kidnapping. Fate chose Illith’Hen as the Heir’s Guardian for a reason. They shouldn’t be separated.”

“Bugger Fate,” Callain said through gritted teeth. “That’s my heir Kibrani’s carrying, and no one else’s.”

“But don’t you want every possible weapon at your command, to get her back?” Glamrod asked the question while Illith’Hen stood silent, simply watching Callain. He ignored them and turned to Beroth.

“I’m ready. Where are we going?”

“You tell me,” Beroth replied.

“Me?!” Callain exploded. “How am I supposed to tell where she was taken? I have no magic!”

“Some things are stronger than magic. There are ancient forces in this world that are more powerful than any mage or priest would like you to know.” He indicated the ribbon wrapped around Callain’s wrist. “You’re bound to Kibrani as no one else can ever be. It’s up to you to locate her before there can be any thought of return.”

Rracaw must have sensed the rage building in Callain, for he let out a sharp scream and ruffled his wings. But then an implacable mask fell over the man’s features and he stalked into the dying forest. The others could see him through the thin trees, not far off, leaning against a tree with his back towards them. They made a cold camp, not knowing when they’d be moving again.

Kibrani. Callain forced the rage out of his mind, draining his fear and anger with it until nothing was left behind except her. It wasn’t hard – he’d never expected to find a woman who suited him so thoroughly, and her sudden absence left more voids in his soul than he cared to admit. ’Rani, beloved, where have you been taken? The answer came slowly.

At sunrise, the others awoke to find Callain standing in the middle of the camp. “North,” he said to no one in particular. “The path stops abruptly and I don’t think we’ll find her at its end, but she’s been taken north.”

“Shill’th also lies to the north,” Illith’Hen said. “Shall we travel together, then?”

Callain met the elf’s eyes and nodded once, then he shouldered his pack and stood motionless, facing north, waiting for the others to be ready to leave.

~~~~~~~~

Second sent the other Triad on ahead, to wait for them at the Shrine. As much as he wanted to fulfill his Master's charge, he didn't waste time regretting the opportunity that had been lost with Kibrani's capture. Sadi was right - the Wielder and the Staff had to be rejoined. The murderer was a fool to think he could protect his woman without the Staff. It would be pleasurable to teach him that lesson.

Second supressed a smile at that thought. Until Kibrani was returned all he could do was wait. Wait, and prepare.

[ September 23, 2003, 18:35: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

Kibrani stood blindly, so abruptly that her chair fell over backwards. She flinched at the sound of it hitting the cold stone floor.

"You're lying" she blurted, suddenly growing angry. "You can't possibly be telling the truth. No one can challenge Fate and live! "

Drogul remained seated, smiling ever so slightly. It was not a smile that held any kindness. Slowly he rose, gathering his coldness about him even as the shadows gathered at his feet, ever obedient to their master. Drogul seemed to gain height and seep savage strength. He took one menacing step towards Kibrani; she backed up, turning her shoulder to him to present a smaller target and to halfway-shield her belly. Her hand groped for a knife that wasn't there.

"If you don't believe me, then what use am I to you, or you to me? I have knowledge that you need to save your child, and in turn you have something I desire." Drogul took a few more steps, and Kibrani realized in blind fear mixed with white-hot fury that he was herding her into a corner. "You are entirely at my wim now, and yet you test me. Why?"

 

Why, indeed? Kibrani’s fear and rage cooled as she pondered Drogul’s question. Her face was blank as she brushed past him to stand at the hearth, staring into the fire and idly fingering one if the items on the mantel. “I like to know who I’m dealing with,” she said slowly, finally turning to face him. “I don’t mind taking risks but I have to understand them first. And now that I’m responsible for someone else, that’s more important than ever.” A wave of fatigue washed over her, and she moved to sit down in the comfortable chair he had first offered, wishing she could put her feet up as well. “That being so, I suppose I owe you the opportunity to tell your tale and state your case.”

“Fair enough, my lady,” Drogul said, inclining his head towards her. He gestured off to the side of the room, and as he sat one of the silent handmaids came forward bearing a large tray. “Some refreshment, while we talk?”

Kibrani accepted a plate of delicacies and a cup of fragrant tea gratefully, but paused before taking a bite. “This food isn’t bewitched, so that I’ll be trapped here if I eat it, is it?” she asked, making Drogul chuckle.

“You read too many fairy tales,” he replied. “I leave such trickery for the gods. I have no need of it.”

“You were saying that you had been Fate’s Heir, until you were struck down,” Kibrani prompted, leaning back in her chair and tucking a cushion behind her aching back. As she propped her feet on a low stool that she swore hadn’t been there a moment ago, she realized that the alarm in her mind was silent – and indeed had been so all along, ever since Ragnar had left.

[ November 03, 2003, 16:16: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

OOC: Sorry for the long intro crap, just bringing in a new character. Considered a possible romance interest to somebody. (Not Callain, I respect his and Kibrani's marriage, LOL.) Will explain about the Sentinel thing later. Now, enjoy.

IC:

Kenneth watched the group intently, her black eyes switching from one member to the another.

The cloak she was wearing would make her invisible to even the most powerful sorcerer and thus she didn't need to fear that they would see her.

Clutching her sword, she soundlessly jumped from the tree and started walking after them.

She was amused how some of them still hoped and wouldn't give up.

Illith'Hen, bearer of the Staff and the Guardian of the Heir, was the most interesting. There was a hint of a personal agenda in union with the subconscious survival instict along with a sense of duty.

Callain, both angry at Kibrani's kidnapper and afraid for his love's life. The man's face was stony, but Kenneth could delve into his mind and scoop out anything she wanted.

Being one of the Sentinels had it's advantage.

Beroth was harder. Such a powerful man, could sense her in his mind and so the Sentinel didn't even toy with the idea.

Now she would just accept the state of the follower, the silent watcher, the shadow.

OOC: Yes, kill me, please. *ducks*

 

Fate watched, wary, alert for any indication of weakness or rebellion. Her patience was at its end, and She wanted to hurry the Heir's journey to Her side. Time was drawing short. Fate's anger rose like a red tide. Damn it, mortals were Her puppets! She controlled them, She held the strings! They could not think to oppose Her... But when a familiar aura moved between Fate and the Heir, Fate was surprised. He was supposed to have died! She'd smote him to the ground in a bolt of lightning! But strangely, he was stronger than before, strong enough to cause Her problems! Fate shrieked in terrible anger. Elsewhere, some mortal writhed in pain.

 

OOC - Welcome, Eze!

Even though the road north took them into the teeth of winter and they had to press forward against an increasing number of storms, they made good time. Callain set a merciless pace; he was ready to move by sunrise and willing to keep going into the night, as long as there was enough moonlight to see. When they did stop he waited with thin patience, always facing north, following the path that hung in his inner vision like a thread of red gossamer, resenting even the smallest delay. He slept little and said less, completely focused on the goal that waited at the end of the road: Kibrani.

Watching this display of single-minded purpose, Sadi had no doubt that Callain’s reputation as an assassin had not been inflated. The man was as intent on his goal as a hunting-hound on a scent, a dwarf in search of a rare gem. He would not have liked to be Callain’s target.

Myrara saw something much different. Against her will, her Sight had shown her the gaping wound in Callain’s soul. She envied the way he had converted his pain into focus and longed to have him teach her this skill – Kale’panir’s death was still close to the surface of her mind and frequently threatened to overwhelm the fragile shell of stability that was in place. But to approach Callain would be to betray his privacy and her need, so she said nothing.

The miles fell away under their feet and then it loomed before them: Shill’th Forest. They reached it too late to pursue whatever spirits awaited them within so they made camp, but Callain was still restless. His path ended here as well. No matter where he looked, he couldn’t find a way to make his inner vision go any farther. There was a barrier between him and Kibrani, one that he couldn’t breach through sheer force of will. As he turned to ask Beroth for assistance, he saw Rracaw drop from the sky to land on the man’s shoulder and an idea came to him.

“Your bird – he can cross between worlds, can’t he?” Callain asked, approaching Beroth. He nodded silently for Callain to continue. “Take this to Kibrani,” he said, unwinding the marriage-ribbon from his wrist and looking into the eagle’s bright eyes. “Let her know I’m coming. I’ll know when you’ve found her.”

Rracaw cried sharply once before taking the ribbon and launching into flight. Callain stood watching until he was no more than a speck in the sky.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“But if Fate was about to leave the throne to you anyway, why should She care what you chose to do with it?” Kibrani asked.

Drogul shrugged before replying. “What god wants to be remembered for having allowed Her own destruction? Fate is at least as vain as any other deity, and more jealous than most of Her ability to manipulate lesser beings. Other than Love – which you people seem to enjoy, don’t ask me why – no god meddles more in the affairs of mortals than Fate. She couldn’t bear the thought of that power going unused, so She cast me down in favor of a more tractable Heir.”

“Tell me about meddlesome,” Kibrani said dryly, rubbing the spot on her side where the baby usually kicked. “So what makes this the right time to try again?”

“There are forces gathering about the Staff. Not just the Enemy – there are others, as well. I can’t see clearly what’s behind them, or even which side they’re on, but Fate’s going to have her hands full when your child is born.”

[ September 29, 2003, 18:40: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

The back of Iliith'Hen's neck itched, like the little hair-raising crawl one got while being watched. He rubbed the offending area, a slight frown on his face. There had been no indication that anyone was following them, so this feeling was coming purely from the group. Iliith'Hen watched them from the corner of his eyes, but none of his companions ever even glanced at him, and the feeling continued. Cursing mentally, Iliith'Hen switched the Staff to his other hand wearily. They'd been traveling for two days straight, and were all nearly brain-dead with fatigue and boredom. There was nothing around but trees and dirt. While the trees sometimes whispered to him, Iliith'hen had slipped into a sort of stupor, his thoughts straying far away.

Dammit, someone has to be watching him! He took another surreptitious glance. And again, nothing. What was going on?! Iliith'Hen ground his teeth in frustration. Who was watching him?

 

Kenneth smiled. So, the Guardian was beginning to get a clue. How interesting. It would be only a matter of hours, until the elf would find the invasion into his mind too painful to pass away and would ask help from others. Better would be to reveal herself soon.

She quickened her pace with ease and soon was walking ahead of the company.

Stopping and turning around, she pulled her cloak off and smiled at the faces of the surprised creatures.

"Sentinel Kenneth of the Second Sword at your service," she said smoothly, drawing her sword out of it's sheath and putting it to the ground in front of her.

"I've been watching you. And it has been interesting."

 

Second's and Third's hands went to their weapons. The Master had warned them that such a being, speaking its honeyed words of Equilibrium amongst all things, might be drawn to the Staff. But the Balance the Sentinels promised was false, subjugating mankind to the lesser creatures and turning him into nothing more than a keeper of beasts. The thought was every bit as horrendous as what would happen if the Wielder were permitted to ascend, Staff in hand, to the throne that awaited him. This woman could not be suffered to interfere with their mission.

But Myrara pushed past Second even as he took a half-step towards Kenneth. "A Sentinel," she purred. "So glad we could provide you with some amusement. Tell me, are you here to fix something we've already done, or to stop us from doing what we shouldn't? Either way, you’ll save me much trouble." She threw her head back and laughed loudly, in a voice none of the others had heard before.